Page 33 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

KAMERON

“ W hat’s wrong?” I ask, noticing the slightly distressed look in her emerald eyes.

She flashes a quick grin. “Oh, nothing. My mom called,” she replies. I know her parents and the fact they’re pushing for grandkids weighs heavily on her mind. That’s a big part of the reason she agreed to this farce.

“Everything okay?” I ask cautiously.

“Yeah,” she replies, turning and setting the bouquet on the corner of her desk. I don’t miss the grin she gives the blooms once more before turning back to me. “They, uh, want to have dinner soon. With us.” She shifts back and forth, one of her nervous tics.

“Okay,” I reply easily.

“Yeah? I mean, they’re gonna bombard us with questions, I’m sure.”

I shrug and lean against the doorframe. “It’s fine. Honestly, it comes with the territory, right? Having dinner with your parents seems like part of the gig.”

She gives me a slow nod, her cheeks flushing a bit. “I know, but, well, they’ll likely embarrass me or you or both. They can be intrusive and persistent.”

“I can handle your parents,” I assure her. I’ve known them my whole life, even if not on a very personal level. Everyone knows everyone in this town. “It’ll be fine. How soon?”

“Soon,” she replies, repeating what her mom said.

“All right, I should be able to make it work any day this week. Well, except Friday. Marlin is taking the night off, so I’ll be down one in the kitchen. I won’t be able to slip out for a quick dinner break.”

“That’s no problem,” she states. “What about Thursday?”

I do a quick mental check of who’s working Thursday before agreeing. “That should work.”

“Okay, I’ll call my mom and let her know. She did offer to cook for us, but I think dinner at the restaurant is better. This way, it has a deadline. If we go to their house, she’ll end up pulling out the photo albums and wanting to grill you all night about recipes or your dating history.”

I snort a laugh. “Well, first off, she’d be sadly disappointed in my past. It’s not very interesting.”

Lies.

“And second, I’d be fine with dinner at their house, if that’s what you prefer,” I reason, trying to ignore the quick beat of my heart at my omission.

“No,” she blurts out. “I think I prefer the restaurant.”

“Okay then. We’ll plan on Thursday, but if that doesn’t work for them, we can figure something else out.”

She nods, seeming relieved to have that conversation out of the way. “Yeah, that works. Thank you.”

Reaching out, I move that sprig of hair once more, needing to touch her. “You’re welcome.” Knowing I’m about out of time, I add, “I need to get back. I had to run to the bank to get some change and saw the gift shop open. I got lucky she had some of your favorite flower in stock.”

Jillian smiles. “You did. They bloom throughout the summer and are usually done by early fall.”

I can’t help but wink. “Lady luck is on my side then. I got the gorgeous girl and the flowers.”

I don’t miss the blush explode up her neck and stain her cheeks. “Thank you.”

I step forward, prepared to give her a kiss goodbye—because even if this relationship started off fake, it feels too right to kiss her—but we’re interrupted before I can.

“Umm, Jillian, I’m sorry to interrupt. There’s someone here to pick up their cake order,” the high school girl working the counter says from behind me.

“Okay, thank you, Emmalynn. I’ll be right up with it,” Jillian says, glancing around my body to her employee.

I hear the girl walk away, my eyes still glued on Jillian. “I’ll let you get to it.” I take a step back, even though I don’t want to. “Oh, I almost forgot. My hot tub is open tonight too. You know, if your back is still bothering you.”

Cue the cute-as-shit blush.

“Umm, yeah. I think I could use another soak.” She fights a smile, but I can see the naughty thought reflecting in her eyes.

“You know the code,” I tell her.

“I do.”

“See you later, Jilly,” I state, turning and walking away before I say the hell with it and throw her down on top of her desk to have my wicked way with her.

Something to look forward to…

It’s Thursday night.

Jillian is nervous as hell to have dinner with her parents and has been fretting about it for the last few days. In fact, the closer it gets, the more anxious she becomes.

Last night, she stayed late at the bakery to work on a couple of cake orders.

I delivered her a quick meal before the after-work crowd picked up at the restaurant and found her flustered and worked up.

She had messed up the design on the top of the cake and had to scrape it off and start over, so I did the only thing I could think of to take her mind off everything.

I kissed her.

A lot.

To the point it was damn near impossible for me to leave and return to the restaurant. All I wanted to do was stay, to hold her and kiss her, to help relieve the extra stress she was feeling.

I know a big part of that stress is the fact our relationship is a lie.

Even if it doesn’t feel like it anymore.

It feels more real than any I’ve ever had, and that’s both sad and thrilling.

I glance at the clock and make sure I’m on time. “I’m taking a dinner break,” I tell Marlin, who offers me a grin.

“Meeting the parents tonight, huh?”

“I’ve already met them, but this is the official introduction since we started dating,” I tell him, pulling my apron off and hanging it on my hook.

“Everything will be fine,” he assures me. “You’re a great guy, and they’ll see that right away. Just don’t mention the fact you’re banging their daughter.”

My eyes widen as he barks out a laugh. “Jesus, Marlin. I’d never say that.”

“That’s good, because dads hate that shit.”

“I can imagine,” I deadpan before walking over to the warming tray and grabbing a fresh basket of rolls and butter. “I’ll be back in a bit, but holler if you need me.”

“I got this, boss,” he states before returning his attention to the new order that just came in.

My plan is to arrive a few minutes early, hoping to steal a little time with Jillian before her parents arrive.

I texted her earlier, reminding her it would all work out fine and to not worry, but I’m not sure my words really worked.

Even if she replied with a thumbs-up emoji, I can picture her fretting and worrying.

Stepping into the dining room, I’m surprised to see her parents already there, waiting. What’s more surprising is the fact Jillian isn’t. Lydia spots me first, offering a warm smile that reminds me of her daughter’s. “Kameron,” she greets.

“Hello, and welcome to Prime,” I reply, approaching the table and setting the bread in the center. “Happy to have you.”

“This place is just beautiful,” she replies warmly.

I turn my attention to Dennis, Jillian’s father. “Good evening, sir,” I state, holding out my hand to shake.

“Kameron,” he replies with a curt nod as he reaches for my hand and gives it a firm shake.

“I’m surprised Jillian isn’t here yet,” I say, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs.

“Me too,” Lydia replies, pulling her phone out of her purse and checking it.

I do the same, retrieving my device from my pocket and I’m a little surprised when I don’t find a message. I know she still has a few minutes, but one thing I’ve noticed about Jillian is the fact she’s always early.

Until today.

I contemplate firing off a message to her when I see the door fly open and the woman herself bursts through the doorway.

I quickly stand, taking in her frazzled appearance and slightly gray complexion.

She says hello to Veronica before making her way toward our table.

I can tell by the look on her face she isn’t having a good day.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she says, plastering on a big smile I can tell doesn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re not late,” I reassure her, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “You okay?” I whisper so only she can hear.

She blinks away tears and nods before turning to her parents. “Hi,” she blurts out, moving to her mom and giving her a quick hug.

“We just ordered a few drinks, and Kameron brought bread,” Lydia informs her daughter with a pleasant smile.

“Oh, bread,” Jillian practically moans out. “G’me.” She reaches for the breadbasket after flopping onto her chair and dives in.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Nicholas asks when he approaches the table, delivering drinks to Lydia and Dennis.

“Yes, strawberry margarita, please,” Jillian blurts out. It surprises me, but I don’t let it show. Mostly because in the short amount of time I’ve known Jillian, she rarely drinks, and when she does, she prefers red wine.

“Of course, and for you, boss?”

“I’ll stick with the water tonight,” I tell him.

“Busy day?” Lydia asks her daughter, who takes a hesitant sip of water.

“Busy and exhausting and expensive,” she mutters.

“What happened?” I ask, focusing my attention on the latter part of her list. I already know why she was busy—because she’s fucking amazing and everyone wants her sweet treats.

I also know why she would be exhausted, and I don’t like it.

After working later than normal at the bakery yesterday, she found it hard to sleep.

I’m hoping tonight, after the completion of dinner with her parents, she’ll finally be able to relax.

She sighs and closes her eyes for a few seconds. “I dropped a cake.”

“Oh no,” her mom replies, reaching over and giving her daughter a supportive squeeze of the hand.

I extend my hand too, linking my fingers with hers and bringing our joined hands to rest on my thigh. She turns and offers me a small smile. “I have to go back to work. I got a new cake baked, but I have to decorate it yet.”

“I’m sorry, Jilly,” I find myself murmuring softly. I take quick stock of her features. There are lines around her eyes, confirming the fact she didn’t sleep well. Her lips are dry and her skin a bit chalky. She looks like she’s coming down with something, and I don’t like it.

Not one bit.

All I want to do is make her smile.